My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

bless you and keep you both,” the chaplain said, his eyes lingering on Ben’s pale face for a second too long.

We did not speak on the elevator ride back up to the fourth floor. The metal doors opened with a dull clang, and the smell of institutional bleach hit me all over again.

By four o’clock, the yellow autumn sunlight was starting continue reading …